The End of Indolence

I have a job.

Thank you for your condolences.

I signed a 12-month contract to teach English at one of the biggest language schools in Saigon.

http://www.vus-etsc.edu.vn/?page=app_news&lang=en

The pay rate is good. I'll be teaching all my classes at the same building, rather than having to shuttle back and forth across town between different campuses. (In a city with 10 million people, 6 million motorbikes and a medieval public transportation system, this is a big deal. Note to self: Next time work in a city with a subway.)

I'm not thrilled about going back to work but I think this is a good gig. I will be working mostly nights and weekends, by choice as it turns out. This will keep my days free so I can pick up sweet substitute gigs at the international schools, tutor or maybe even do some freelance writing. I've met some people who may be able to help me get my name back in print.

I wasn't sure I was going to continue the blog now that I'm settling down. I am grateful for the emails I've received from folks back home asking me to keep writing. The subject matter will change, of course. I wish I could continue it in the "another day, another country" mode. Now it will be more of a "fish out of water" story as I dive into teaching and the life of an expat.

When I'm traveling I always have my camera with me. I honestly can't remember the last time I used it, though. I'll make a point to carry it to get some shots of Saigon city life. The size, the traffic, the pollution -- it's all a bit overwhelming to a country boy like me. I must admit, I'm not crazy about the place, but it's the right place for me to be for the near future.

The Lecture and The List

I don't eat breakfast.

There. I said it.

Whenever I say this, I get The Lecture. It doesn't matter where the person to whom I am speaking lives. They could be American, German, Chinese or from Planet Zorkon. It's always the same.

What?! You don't eat breakfast? Don't you get hungry? How do you manage to make it five hours to lunch without starving to death?

Altogether now: It's the most important meal of the day.

I am baffled by the shock and bewilderment and even anger caused by this admission of mine. People would find it less shocking to learn that I'm a vampire or once killed a man just to watch him die.

I then try to explain that part of the reason I don't partake of breakfast foods is that I don't like any of them. Aside from bacon -- fried fat, and thus nature's perfect food -- I don't like any of it. This prompts The List, during which people mention every conceivable breakfast food trying to find something I might actually eat in the morning.

You don't like eggs? Everyone likes eggs. What about waffles? I've never met anyone who doesn't waffles. You must like pancakes. No? I LOVE pancakes. Seriously, I could eat pancakes every day. What about cereal?

This is followed by a sub-listing of every breakfast cereal known to man. And so on.

Because I've been meeting people from so many places they also have to ask me if I've tried their country's specialty.

Where I come from we eat mostly omelettes, but we only use the shell, not the white or the yolk. Perhaps you should try it.

Really? In my country we have no chickens so we eat goat brains baked in a dirty diaper. You'd love it.

I have never liked eating breakfast. This was the source of a running battle between my mother and me when I was growing up. God bless her, she tried everything. If I do eat anything in the morning it will be something I can eat on the go, like fruit or yogurt.

In Nepal eating breakfast can kill a day of hiking. If you're in a crowded lodge waiting for breakfast can easily take an hour or more away from the day. I'd much rather get up and get on the trail early. Sure, you can ask the lodge to have your breakfast ready at 6 a.m. You can also ask them to take off their clothes and jump blindfolded through a flaming hoop. The likelihood of either happening is about the same. Everyone else in the lodge wants their breakfast at the same time. It's the luck of the draw as to who gets served first.

I'll order a couple boiled eggs with dinner and save them for the morning. After hiking for an hour or so I'll rest for a few minutes and eat them then. It's a break I would have taken anyway so it doesn't cost me any time. Some days I'm at my destination while the people at my lodge are still waiting for breakfast.

That's your hiking tip for the day. You're welcome.

I think it's silly to eat breakfast. I would much rather spend that extra 15-30 minutes sleeping. Then again, I have always been a chronic imsomniac. You don't need to be a sleepologist or whatever to connect the dots between my difficulties sleeping and my lack of enthusiasm for early morning dining.

Don't get me started on Sunday brunch. On the one day of the week you can sleep in and enjoy a lazy day at home you get up early, get dressed and drive somewhere to eat scrambled eggs and toast? String theory makes more sense to me.

I feel much better now that we've had this talk.

Annapurna lodges: Shangri-la, Kagbeni

My friends and I were using two different travel books on the Annapurna Circuit. Both mentioned the Shangri-la guest house in Kagbeni. My book, "Trekking in the Annapurna Region", published by Trailblazer, calls it an "eyesore". I think that's a bit unfair and fairly indicative of how crappy the book is in general.

I thought the facility was outstanding. It's big and clean. The downstairs common room is cavernous but surprisingly cozy at night.


There's a dining area upstairs as well, with a fantastic view of the Kali Gandaki valley and Nilgiri.


All of which is nice, but what makes the place so special is the people who work there. We had stopped for lunch at another restaurant in town. Kasia and I offered to find rooms for the group. We started here. I mentioned in a previous post how much it disgusts me to hear hikers haggling over room prices. Without any prompting from us the owner offered us a break on the room cost. Apparently business had been slow and she didn't want to pass up the chance to rent three rooms. For less than $2 I had my own room with an actual hot shower.

We didn't look any further. The owner is on the right.

My best guess at the English spelling of her name is Zindin. Her sister Kumari is in the center holding Zindin's daughter. Kumari's name I can spell because it's the name of the "living goddess" who lives in Kathmandu.

I won't even make a stab at Zindin's daughter's name. On the left is (again, best guess) Zundan, who, if I understood correctly, is a cousin. They all work nonstop from before sunrise to long after the tourists are asleep, and yet they are unfailingly cheerful and friendly. When she's cleaning up at night Zindin will strap her daughter to her back with a shawl. The child sleeps like a log with her body in the craziest positions as her mother bustles around the inn.

Take a look behind them. The kitchen is unusually large for Nepal, but, that aside, look how clean and orderly it is. I don't mean to criticize other lodges. It's miraculous how much food (and good food, at that) they can crank out of tiny kitchens, but it's not surprising that they always look in a state of disarray.

Zindin's kitchen is as busy as any of them but unlike other kitchens I've seen it doesn't look like burglars came through and trashed it. It's also well-stocked. One member of my hiking group is a Welshman named Tom who works as a chef in Paris. Zindin gave him a tour of the kitchen. He was impressed not just with how professional it looked. I'm willing to bet there aren't many kitchens on the trail with fenugreek on the shelf.

The food was amazing. I don't mean amazing by trail standards, I mean amazing, period. Tom said the chop suey was the best he ever had. The baby potatoes in sesame cream sauce are deservedly famous. I had gone to Kagbeni in part to visit the famous YakDonald's, but after trying the food at the lodge I had no desire to eat anywhere else.

Most lodges have gardens and raise chickens, so vegetable and egg items are cheap. Meat dishes are more expensive for them to make because they must buy the meat. Zindin asked us if we had any ideas for new dishes she could make using existing ingredients.

In Nepal they eat an unleavened flour bread called a chapati, essentially the same thing as a tortilla. I stumbled across the idea of a breakfast burrito. We were surprised when we realized we hadn't seen it on the menu anywhere. We pitched the idea to Zindin. She seemed interested. As I was the only one who was staying a second night she asked if I would show her how to make it.

The next day I wrote down the ingredients, instructions and even made a drawing of possible serving options: prewrapped, make-your-own, etc. That night I had dinner in the downstairs common room and, as usual, I chowed down. Yak steak and fresh apple pie with hot custard (pudding). There was a lively group of tourists so I got in the spirit and even had a big bottle of Everest beer.

I thought I was done for the night but as the rest of the hikers were heading off to bed Zindin asked me to join her in the kitchen to show her how to make a breakfast burrito. I felt wildly out of place and sorely wished Tom the chef was there to do the honors. I mostly tried to stay out of the way as she made the bread and sauteed all the ingredients together.

She tried it and seemed to like it. It's entirely likely that she was simply being polite, of course. I said it tasted the way it should but suggested that she could use her culinary skills to improve it. So there it was, a giant breakfast burrito sitting there on the plate... Hmm...

I had to eat it.

Don't get me wrong, it was excellent. But I had already eaten a huge meal. It would have been in incredibly poor taste to refuse. Normally I would have already been asleep. But there I was at 10:30 pm wolfing down yet another enormous plate of food.

The next morning she asked me if I wanted breakfast. She laughed when I told her I was still full from "breakfast" the night before. I mentioned that I don't eat breakfast. I made the mistake of saying that if I eat anything in the morning it's usually fruit. Zindin said she had apple trees, from which she made her otherworldly apple pie. Oh no, I couldn't -- but it was too late.

Great, I thought, I'll take an apple with me and eat it a little ways down the trail when I need an energy boost. Imagine my horror, then, when she handed me an entire shopping bag full of apples. She refused to accept any money for them.

I used this photo in a previous post but I'm using it again to illustrate the final bit of kindness guests at the Shangri-la guest house receive. Hotels in Nepal give guests a white scarf as a gift and blessing. It is not common for guests to receive these scarves on the trail. This was taken the morning my friends departed. They're all wearing the scarves they've just been given. I would receive mine the next day.

I've stayed in dozens of lodges on the trails in Nepal and this is the only one that has provided this courtesy. Most hikers stay one or, at most, two nights in Kagbeni. The owners have to pay for these scarves and receive nothing in return. In fact, they give them out after the bill is paid.

From what I gathered Kagbeni is becoming a casualty of the road building in the Annapurna region. It was a regular stop on the Circuit, but now that more and more tourists on this side of the trail are traveling by vehicle, they either pass through Kagbeni for a few hours, or not at all.

Though the village marks the southern boundary of the restricted Upper Mustang region, there's a road on the ridge above with a constant stream of vans and jeeps conveying tourists from Muktinath to Jomsom or vice versa.

Kagbeni is one of my favorite villages in Nepal. So many stops along the trail are there purely for the use of tourists, but here is a place that existed centuries before westerners invaded. It has personality, charm, and lots of nooks and crannies for hikers to explore. It is the jumping-off point for the day hike to the village of Tiri, perhaps the best day hike I've ever done.

It is also home to one of my favorite lodges in Nepal. If you go to Nepal and hike the Annapurna Circuit, do yourself a favor and spend some time in and around Kagbeni. While you're there, stay at Shangri-la, try the sesame potatoes and see if my breakfast burrito made it onto the menu after all.

Annapurna lodges: Mavis's Kitchen and Guest House, Manang

I am continually amazed that in the Nepal Himalayas, of all places, you can hike for weeks without having to carry food or a tent. The most popular trails, in the Everest and Annapurna regions, are called 'teahouse treks' because there are small villages along the trail. You rarely have to hike more than an hour before coming to a place where you can eat and sleep.

The facilities can be primitive, especially at higher altitude, but you can usually count on sleeping on clean linen and eating home-cooked meals in a warm dining room. (You can also count on pretty grim toilets.) Lodges make decent attempts at various types of international cuisine: spaghetti, pizza, rosti, chop suey, moussaka, etc.

The staff is usually friendly and efficient. It's astounding the way they can crank out meals for 20 to 40 guests using one or two burners. I'm impressed that they actually care, considering the vast majority of their guests arrive in the afternoon and leave early the next morning.

Every once in a while you stay at a lodge where the owners take pride in their lodge and kitchen. The food on the Annapurna Circuit was surprisingly good in general, but two lodges were really memorable.

The first was the Mavis's Kitchen and Guest House. Mavis is an Indian woman who moved to Kathmandu to teach English. Her English is perfect, as in better than mine. She married a Nepalese man and moved with him to his village, Manang.

I spent my first night in Manang in another hotel. I switched hotels after having Mavis's yak steak for dinner. It was outrageously good. Fresh rosemary in the gravy! When I hike I eat as much as I want, because I know I'm going to burn off the calories when I hit the trail again. The lasagne serving was so big I could not finish it.

Mavis runs the place with help from two of her nieces. Chiri works as a teacher during the day and helps out at night. Mavis is cheerful and chatty. I don't know why she wouldn't smile when I took her picture.

You can see a younger version of her in the poster in the background. She's not smiling there either! Most lodges are set up like hotels, but Mavis has little cottages behind the restaurant. Mine is the one on the right.


It's basic, just a room with two beds, a lamp and small table. It's quite cozy, though, and the relative privacy was a blessing after staying in so many lodges where the rooms are separated by plywood partitions.

Cost: about $2 per night.

It's located on the side of town furthest from the river and mountains, but since the scenery here is 7,500 meters high you don't have to worry about the view being obstructed.

Just behind the blue roof is the "Wild West" main street of Manang. After I took this picture I spent the afternoon exploring on the ridge just below the snow line.

The toilets are located behind my cottage. They are spotless. I can not overstate how extraordinary this is. Most of the toilets on the trail look like something out of a horror movie. You are more likely to see a herd of unicorns on the trail than you are to find a clean toilet.

One western concept the Nepalese still don't quite have a handle on is the hot shower. Mavis's would be the perfect guest house if she worked out the kinks in the shower.


It's a bit disconcerting trying to bathe while wondering if the heating apparatus is going to explode. It doesn't work very well, and whatever heat it generates is canceled out by the cold air blowing through the cracks in the wall. That is the only quibble I have. I hasten to mention that this is a typical setup on the trail. It's not as if it's noticeably worse than anywhere else. It's just the only thing about the place where there's room for improvement!

Our next stop after Manang was Yak Kharka. Mavis's sister owns a guest house there. I mentioned this in a previous post, but it bears repeating. She called ahead and reserved cottages for us there and wrote notes for us to take just in case. Even the big-money tour groups have to send porters ahead to reserve rooms. To have a rooms waiting for you on the trail is an unheard-of luxury. I probably shouldn't be writing about this...

In my Manang post I said that the village itself is more than just a stop along the trail. It's a great destination. I can imagine going back to Manang for a week and using it as a base to do short hikes in the region. Mavis may not be there, though. She told me she doesn't enjoy running the hotel as much as she once did and is considering moving on.

The prices for lodging and meals are set by the village governments. This is to ensure all the lodges in a particular area can compete and make money. I had a cottage to myself for about $2 per night. You can get simple meals like fried rice for as little as $2. I ate as much as I wanted and treated myself to Snickers and Coke whenever I got the craving and still averaged less than $20 per day for the trek, and that includes the costs of permits and bus rides.

Yet there are still people who want to haggle! Manang is a busy town. The lodges do fill up. But people still try to get a "deal". The common scam is for tourists to promise to eat all their meals at the lodge if the owner will let them stay for free.

It's not as if you can go around the corner to Applebee's or call Domino's. The only restaurants are in the lodges. Of course they're going to eat there. And since most people only stay for a night, maybe two, they're only going to eat a few meals anyway.

Mavis, understandably, is tired of dealing with people like that. There is something seriously wrong when a woman who takes so much pride in her guest house and restaurant is considering getting out of the business because of cheapskate tourists.

I find it appalling. It baffles me that a tourist would expect free lodging anywhere, let alone in the Himalayas! Nepal is one of the poorest countries in the world by western standards, with a per capita income of about $250 per year. Most people live on less than a dollar a day. If you can't afford $2 for a hotel room, seriously, stay home.

Annapurna Circuit Days 7, 8: Move over, Hoi An

I was doing some housekeeping on the blog when I came across this post from the Annapurna trek. I thought I had published it. In fact, I've even received comments about it. Hmm... Anyway, it's about my new favorite place, Manang, so I'm republishing it.


I've mentioned that Hoi An, Vietnam is my favorite small town. That was before I visited Manang. I'll add a new category. Hoi An is my favorite small town. Manang is my favorite village. Consider the issue successfully ducked.

It's altitude is listed in my guidebook at 3,540 meters/11,614 feet, a height at which altitude sickness becomes a serious risk. The guidebooks recommend staying two nights there to acclimatize. After Manang the villages are smaller and the lodges more basic, so it's last place to stay in relative luxury before heading to higher altitude.

I stayed there for three nights. I didn't want to leave.

The setting for the town is breathtaking. It sits in a valley next to a small river. There are clear views up and down the valley of the two 7,500-meter peaks on the other side of the river. The creature comforts here are as good as on anywhere on the trail.

Fresh-baked apple pie washed down with real brewed coffee!

Travel books talk about Manang as a comfortable place to rest before heading to higher altitude. I think they should market the place as a destination. I could see myself going back to Nepal just to go to Manang. And eat pie.

There are perhaps a dozen nice side excursions from the village, from a few hours to the gompa (shrine) on the hill above or three days to Tilicho Lake, one of the highest lakes in the world. The food is great. There is internet access -- slow and expensive, but hey, you're online in the Himalayas! But the best of the creature comforts happens at night. Read on...

The altitude is over 3,500 meters, which is daunting, but it's easy to get there. If you don't feel like hiking for a week you don't have to. There is an airport in Ongre, just a few hours south. Someone who wants to visit the Himalayas but isn't a serious hiker, or doesn't enjoy roughing it, could fly into Ongre, hike up to Manang (slowly), spend a week there, eat pie, hike back down and fly out.

The village is Tibetan in style, with stacked stone buildings and narrow passageways. Here is a an intersection with wall of Buddhist prayer wheels and a monument called a chorten.

I ended up in this particular corner because I was looking for the post office. I wanted to mail postcards from here to see if they were ever delivered. The mail here is carried by porters down the valley and then delivered by trucks.

This is the post office.


The postmaster lives upstairs and comes down to the office when he hears someone walk in. The cost for a postcard stamp to the US was only 30 rupees, less than 50 cents, not bad considering where I was.

The alleys are so steep and narrow that they block out the spectacular surroundings, but not always. Here's looking down a path at Gangapurna. It's nearly 25,000 feet high, or about a mile higher than Denali (McKinley), the highest peak in the US.

If I were a better photographer I would have gotten a better shot of this child standing on the roof of her house in her school uniform with the Gangapurna Glacier in the background.


The entrance and main road through the village looks like something from the American Wild West, complete with horses tethered to hitching posts.


That illusion was enhanced on my third day, during the first day of the bi-annual Ni festival. Horsemen from all over the region came to town to put on a riding display. Some of the riders were young guys with fashionable clothes and slickbacked hair trying to impress the girls. Others were old-timers who looked like they could have ridden with the Golden Horde.

It was cool to watch them riding with no hands, controlling the horses using only their knees, something I have only ever seen in Mongolia. It was also fun watching the locals tailgating, Nepal style:

Everyone stopped to watch.


I was dining alone the first night when a gorgeous blonde girl sat down at the table next to me. I was eating yak steak, not pie. I thought she was flirting with me but that was just my ego tricking me. She's just an incredibly sweet and friendly person. How disappointing.

Kasia was traveling with her friend and housemate, Rob. They're both Polish but live in London. Rob has lived in England his whole life. He talks (and thinks) like a Brit. Kasia has only lived in England for a few years so she speaks with a lilting combination Polish-English accent. I would pay to listen to her read the phone book.

The three of us became fast friends and I spent the next few days hanging out with them and a young Welshman named Tom. He's a chef who, after his sojourn to Nepal, was heading back to his job in Paris. He was absolutely shocked at the quality of food on the trail. More on that in future posts.

Rob coined a phrase which makes me laugh every time I think about it. Nepalese use squat toilets, but every once in a while you'll encounter a western toilet. Rob's says the sensation of discovering a western toilet where you don't expect it is deja poo.

Usually I go to bed at 8 p.m. on the trail because I'm tired, it's cold and dark and, well, there's nothing to do. In Manang I could go to one of two "cinemas".


One night we watched "Hang the Over" ("The Hangover"). I've now seen it three times in three different countries, which must be some kind of record. So I've got that going for me. Which is nice.

I found it odd that two of the staple movies are "Touching the Void" and "Into Thin Air". Do I really want to watch a movie about a mountain climbing disaster before attempting the highest trekking pass in the world? And "Alive"?! Maybe I shouldn't have eaten the "yak" steak...

Cost for the movie is 250 rupees, a little more than $3. For that we got to sit on wooden benches lined with yak pelts and watch the movie with complimentary popcorn and tea.

In the center is a wood stove, so it was warm and cozy inside. The movie "screen" is an old TV. The next night we went to the cinema across the street and watched "Into the Wild" -- another movie about someone dying in the snow...

I desperately needed to rest my feet so the first day I didn't do anything except read. And eat pie. The next day I did a couple side hikes. And ate pie.

I got up early to climb up to Praken Gompa. Actually I got up early to eat pie, then hike. About an hour of slow walking above Manang takes you to a small shrine where there's a lama who will bless hikers for a small donation, to give them luck crossing the high mountain pass called Thorung La. Trekkers wear the twine bracelets he gives them as a badge of honor.

I arrived too early. The lama was asleep. Two of the nuns motioned that I should go in and they would wake him up.

NO NO NO, I said, shaking my head wildly. Let the man sleep! Don't wake him up for me!

He's 93 years old!

Even without the lama's blessing it was worth the walk to see the view of the village and the mountains beyond. In the afternoon I would climb the ridge in the center of the picture to the hill on the left.


Looking down the valley into the fierce early morning light washed out the view of the landscape, giving it an almost impressionistic look.

I didn't linger long for fear that the nuns would wake up the lama. I went down to recharge. And eat pie. In the afternoon Kasia and I walked up the other side of the valley and stopped for tea at the Chongkor Viewpoint Restaurant. Here she is enjoying the view and a glass of seabuckthorn juice. Mmm ... seabuckthorn juice.


Believe it or not, here I did not, repeat not eat pie. I could easily have spent an entire day wandering around the ridge. We saw trails going all the way up to the snow line. Looking across the valley we could look down at Manang and across at the gompa I had visited in the morning. It's a barely visible white speck on the side of the mountain.

The view back down the valley was awesome. The entire ridge was criss-crossed with prayer flags, which added an additional pinch of color.

It felt good to be alive.


When I could finally force myself to leave I would be heading up the valley to the right in the photo below. The mountain pass we would cross is just past the mountain in the distance.


The lake at the bottom gets its otherworldly blue color from the sediment in the runoff from the glacier. The mountain, glacier and lake are all called Gangapurna. Kasia and I found a trail down to the lake. She didn't have to tell me to smile when she took my picture.

The sun set behind Gangapurna, which made for great evening viewing. I love the lighting effects when the sun is blocked by the mountains but still hasn't set.

Mỹ

This is perhaps my favorite word in Vietnamese, and not because I'm American. For some reason I find it funny that the Vietnamese word for "United States of America" is Mỹ.

That's it. Four words reduced to two letters.

It's my favorite word because it's so fun to say. Every day I am asked multiple times where I am from. It's one of the few words I can say in Vietnamese so I use it.

The "M" sound is exaggerated. To my ears it sounds more like a "b" than an "m", which is not terribly surprising since the letters are formed the same way by the lips. The "y" is pronounced like the "ee" sound in English.

The tilde over the vowel indicates that it is pronounced with the "tumbling tone". The symbol is actually a pretty decent illustration of how to pronounce it. The tone starts normally, dips and then rises sharply to finish at a tone higher than where it started. It's spoken almost as if it's a question.

(This is not to be confused with the "asking tone", which would be Mỷ. This starts lower than normal, then rises back to normal. Understand? No, neither do I. To western ears they sound very much the same. Vietnamese is the hardest language I have tried to learn, mostly because of the six tones, one more than Chinese, two more than Thai.)

The question I get, then, is "Where you from?"

The answer, if I were to spell it in phonetic English, is "Me?!" As if someone has accused me of a particularly heinous crime and I am responding in surprise and alarm.

My first taste of communism

I've been to four countries on the SE Asian mainland. Two (Thailand and Cambodia) are kingdoms. Two (Laos and Vietnam) are communist. From the street level it's hard to tell the difference. Sometimes.

Even though Vietnam is officially communist the Vietnamese people are the most ruthlessly capitalist people I have ever encountered. I don't mean that as insult. I think they are very clever about finding ways to make money, especially when it comes to tourists.

For example: A lot of restaurants provide small moist towels or pre-packaged wetnaps when you sit. This would be a nice convenience except that if you use it you have to pay 2,000 to 3,000 dong for it. That's only about 15 cents, but still...

Vietnam was ruled by China for 1,000 years, so Vietnamese culture bears the unmistakable imprint of its northern neighbor. China is notorious for cracking down on dissidents and protest movements. Vietnam is doing the same. One way China stifles dissent is by blocking an exhaustive list of websites that might be used by protestors to disseminate information. Vietnam seems to be building it's own version of the Great Firewall of China.

In September eight bloggers were convicted on charges of spreading "anti-government propaganda" and sentenced to up to six years in jail.

I deactivated my facebook account because it is virtually impossible to log on in Vietnam now.

The government is cracking down on social networking sites.

Government spokeswoman Nguyen Phuong Nga said at a December 3 news conference: "[A] number of social Web sites have been misused to convey information with contents that oppose the Democratic Socialist Republic of Vietnam," she said. "...threatening information security and causing a bad influence on Internet users."

If I can't use it there's no reason to keep my account active. I'm not going to leave Vietnam because I can't log onto facebook. Shutting down websites isn't the only thing that's happened recently to make life more difficult for ex-pats. The government is more restrictive about issuing visas. Of the five countries I've traveled in SE Asia, Vietnam is the only one that does not issue visas on arrival. You have to arrange one in advance. That much hasn't changed.

I bought a six-month, multi-entry visa before I left the US. It expires in a few days, so I looked into getting a new visa or an extension. Now the longest visa you can get is three months. The length has changed but the price has not: $150, more than twice the cost of a single-entry visa.

One reason I chose to work in Saigon is because I love how easy and cheap it is to get around here. If you have a long weekend it's easy to get to Bangkok, Singapore, Kuala Lumpur -- a short, inexpensive flight will get you to any number of cities all over Asia or even Australia.

The Tet holiday is next month. The entire country shuts down for at least a week so there's a good chance I'll want to spend a few days somewhere else. For that reason I decided to buy a multi-entry visa. (If I have a single-entry visa and leave the country, I'd have to buy for new visa, so it makes sense to spend the extra money now.)

Neither the internet clampdown or the visa restrictions are enough to make me leave the country, but I will keep my eyes open to see if these are just the beginning of an emerging pattern.

A sad day

I went to work yesterday.

I resigned from my last job on December 31, 2007, so it's been more than two years since I had to get up and go to work.

I know it's childish, but I wish I never had to work again. I've been living in a fantasy world for the past 18 months and I don't want it to end. I haven't actually found a job, though. I was full-day substitute at an international school on the outskirts of Saigon.

There are basically three places where someone like me can hope to teach. I did my teaching practice in a public school. Working conditions there were chaotic, like in a city school in the US. The big difference here is that kids, while rambunctious and chatty, are generally respectful of teachers. Public school jobs are easy to get but don't pay as well.

Language centers are the best bet for a new teacher like me. These are private, modern facilities where students pay to learn English. Pay is usually better and -- for me this is a big "and" -- they're air-conditioned.

Both public schools and language centers pay by the hour, literally by the amount of hours taught. If you are on campus for six hours but you only teach two hours, you get paid for two hours.

Where you want to end up is at an international school. These are usually fairly impressive campuses where rich local students go to school with children of foreigners. Teachers are paid extremely well.

Because families pay out the wazoo to send their kids to these schools the standards for teachers are high. It's something to work towards. You pay your dues in the public schools and language centers and hope to get your foot in the door at an international school.

My foot is in the door.

Miss Kim, the woman who runs the travel desk at my hotel, put me in touch with a fellow American named Gabriel, who has been teaching in Vietnam for five years. Without even meeting me, Gabriel arranged for me to visit his school and meet the principal. They asked me if I would be willing to substitute as needed.

Heck yes!

I had six classes, but the teachers provided lessons and material. All I needed to do is get through the day without the kids burning the building down. Mission accomplished!

I was terrified, but I had a great time. The kids were well-behaved, the staff was incredibly welcoming and supportive. I made it very clear that I would be happy to pinch hit in the future. This is the school's website. Check out the facilities! Check out the pool!

http://vietnam.acgedu.com/

I really needed this experience. It reminded me of why I wanted to work in Vietnam. You can make a comfortable living and save money working as a teacher here. Gabriel and I stopped by his house. He has a house, an actual free-standing house, with a maid. He dresses well and has a brand-new motorcycle. He's living extremely well, but he's not even certified. He's almost finished earning a teaching certification. Then he'll get bumped into the next pay bracket.

Now I know what I'm working towards.

That's the good news.

I've been submitting resumes at language centers, especially who have advertised online that they need teachers. I want to exhaust that avenue before I apply at public schools. I haven't heard from any of them. Not a peep. It could be that my resume isn't very good or that they want people with more experience.

Or it could be that this is a really lousy time to look for a job. A classmate of mine, who's been teaching in Saigon for years, said this time of year schools are gearing down for Tet. That's the lunar new year celebration, by far the biggest holiday of the year in these parts. Most of the country completely shuts down for at least a week, even two, as most people travel home to spend the week with their families.

Even schools that are open during Tet have a drastically reduced schedule. Tet starts on Valentine's Day. I may have to take a job, any job, to get me through Tet, and then start looking again after.

However, I may not be quite done with traveling yet. My visa is almost expired. I could apply for an extension, but, without going into details, it would probably make more sense to leave the country and apply for a new visa. I may have to spend a few days in Bangkok or Phnom Penh. Wouldn't that be awful...